Screw the Universe by Stephen Schwegler, Eirik Gumeny Page A

said a distant voice that most certainly belonged to Space Marshal Orr, “I hope they all die.”
     
    “You motherfucker!” shouted Private Boxershorts.
     
    “What? Who said that?”
     
    The crew could hear some kind of rustling sound coming from the monitor.
     
    “Shit, you mean it’s on? Well, how do you... This one? Did that...? Zdravo, can you hear me?”
     
    “You suck!” yelled Private Morgan Crimsonshirt.
     
    “It’s not that one,” Marshal Orr told... someone. “The yellow one? Which yellow one? This –”
     
    The sound switched off.
     
    “What a dick,” said Private Redshirt.
     
    “I’ve never liked him,” added Captain Tyler.
     
    “You’ve got his photo on your mirror in your cabin,” said First Lieutenant Duknerts.
     
    “I mean I’ve never liked him since now.”
     
    “Who cares?” yelled Private Beef. “HOW THE FUCK DO WE GET OFF THE FLOOR?!”
     
    “I don’t know,” said Captain Tyler. “Do you think this ‘Heavy Gravity’ switch on my chair might fix it?”
     
    “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” said Duknerts. “Is it on or off, Captain?”
     
    “Uh, on, it looks like.”
     
    “Turn it off.”
     
    The captain, using all of his strength, raised his hand and flicked the switch. Miraculously, the heightened gravity was turned off.
     
    “I’m a hero!” shouted the captain.
     
    “You’re a fucking moron,” replied Private Redshirt.
     
    “That’s your opinion and you’re entitled to it. But it’s also insubordination, so I’m entitled to one pair of your used panties.”
     
    “Not again...”
     
    “You know the rules, Private.”
     
    “Yes, sir,” she mumbled.
     
    “First Lieutenant!” shouted the captain, settling back into his chair. “Tell engineering to get us going and then let’s blow this testicle stand.”
     
    “You mean popsicle stand,” replied the First Lieutenant.
     
    “What? Where? I thought we were out?”
     
    First Lieutenant Duknerts grumbled, then flipped on the intercom to the engineering bay.
     
    “Engineer Poopypants?”
     
    “Yes, sir?”
     
    “Get us the hell out of Frosty’s ice hole.”
     

     
    Ten minutes later, Frosty the Snowman appeared on the Zdravo’s bridge viewscreen. He appeared to be talking into his iPhone. At the movies. That fucking asshole.
     
    “Where’s Dickface?” he whispered.
     
    “Dr. Porn?” asked Tyler. “He’s probably in his lab.”
     
    “My engineer! Irma Dickface.”
     
    “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
     
    “Irma Dickface!” roared Frosty, as quietly as he could.
     
    “Heh.”
     
    “Ha ha, yes, very funny,” said the snowman. “Look, she just sent a text and said she was leaving with you. Never mind the fact that she lied to me about you being dead, if you don’t turn around and bring her back I will fucking kill you . You know, even more.”
     
    “Seriously?” said Private Redshirt.
     
    “Yes. Dickface and I... kinda... have a thing. It’s been rough, though, for all the usual reasons things don’t work out between a snowman and a woman...”
     
    “What do you mean?” asked Private Heather Naughtyplaces.
     
    “There’s only so much you can do with a carrot,” answered Private Redshirt.
     
    “Anyway,” said Frosty the Snowman. “Prepare to die.”
     
    “Seriously, Snowy, you’re going to have to speak up. I didn’t get a word of that,” said Captain Tyler. “Oh, hey, shiny! What’s this do?”
     
    Tyler pushed a bright blue button on his control panel labeled “LAUNCH.” The bridge crew braced itself for something terrible. They waited... and waited... but nothing happened.
     
    “What?” said Frosty. “What’re you guys –”
     
    “I’m sorry to interrupt,” said the computer, “but there’s now a giant hole in the ship, plus our engines have been compromised.”
     
    “What?” asked Captain Tyler. “How’d that happen?”
     
    First Lieutenant Duknerts lunged at his commanding officer while Frosty looked